


Downpour

by Jaydee_Faire



Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: Bad Weather, Camping, Cuddling, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Platonic Cuddling, Rain, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 09:50:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15434391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydee_Faire/pseuds/Jaydee_Faire
Summary: It's raining.





	Downpour

Rain rattled on the slanted roof of the tent, shadows dripping down the canvas against the light of the struggling campfire outside. Gods be good to whichever unlucky recruit had been set to tend it, Argath thought, and thank those same for sparing me the task.

The rain had begun over the plains as they'd made their way back toward Eagrose, and the weather had gone from chilly to frigid as they'd climbed higher into the mountains. Argath had waited in vain for it to turn to snow-- light, fluffy flakes would have been welcome after hours of marching in damp clothes with his hair slicked to his scalp and dripping down his collar-- but Ramza had looked at the sky and shaken his head: too cold for snow, but if they were really fortunate, the rain would freeze and pelt them all with ice.

Too _cold_ for snow. Argath huddled further down into his bedroll, missing evenings by the fire at home, drinking milky tea, wrapped in flannels and furs from head to toe. He'd thought the cold stone halls of Limberry Castle had been cold, especially when the wind whistled through in the late fall. But Gallione's winter winds found every chink and crevice in his cloak, raising sickly goosebumps on already clammy skin.

It was little better here in the tent, though Ramza had set up a coal brazier that took the cold from deadly to merely unpleasant. Their damp clothes hung above it and Argath had had to go to bed in a spare set that smelled of chocobo feathers. Ramza was dressed similarly in a tunic that was far too large for him, belted about the waist above someone else's scraggly leggings. 

And sleeping peacefully, damn him, despite the conditions. 

Argath turned over, then turned over again, trying to wrap his blankets around himself in a way that kept the cold from creeping in, but there was always some bit of him sticking out, or some threadbare place that breathed chill air onto bare skin. He grumbled into his makeshift pillow, drew his feet in closer, then felt Ramza's hand on his back.

"Can't sleep?"

"I didn't mean to wake you." Argath turned over to look at him properly.

"You're wiggling about as if you've got fleas in your bedroll." Ramza propped himself up on one elbow. "You don't, do you?"

"No. Just cold. I don't know how you sleep in weather like this."

"Not my favorite conditions to camp in, that's to be sure." Ramza shifted under his own pile of blankets. Smaller and more slender than Argath, he fit a little better beneath them. "I'd poke up the brazier if I didn't think it would catch the tent afire. This is old waxed canvas from my father's time in the war."

"Waxed?"

"To keep out the rain. A third son deserves no better," Ramza grinned. "We'll be warmer if we combine our blankets and sleep together. It's made many a night out in the open much more bearable, when Delita and I were training at the Akademy."

"Oh... together?" Argath hesitated, his awkwardness warring with his desire for a few hours' warm sleep. "I, um..."

"Spread yours out like this," Ramza said, oblivious to Argath's discomfort. "Then we can have this one for our legs. Put your pillow here, and I'll put mine beside it."

In a few moments, pulled along by Ramza's cheerful orders, Argath found himself wrapped in blankets and laying closer than he had to anyone in years, not since he was a boy climbing into his parents' bed. Ramza, quickly found himself a comfortable place to curl against Argath's back, his breath warming the space between them as he sighed. "Better," he murmured. "Much better."

Two soldiers sharing a bed in freezing cold weather was practical, not indecent, Argath reminded himself as he slowly began to relax into Ramza's arms. At least it was only noble blood in the tent. He couldn't be as sure that a common man's intentions would be as pure. 

_"Oh,_ damn you through the eighth hell, your feet are like ice," Ramza swore, wriggling closer against him. "When we get home I'm going to ask Alma to knit you a warmer pair of socks. Nothing you brought is warm enough for a winter in Gallione."

"I-- I would be--" Ramza smelled of clover and damp wool, warm and solid and real with his feet tangled between Argath's legs. "I would be honored," he managed finally.

"And boots lined with panther fur," Ramza yawned. "First stop will be the cobbler's. Well, perhaps the--" he yawned again. "--Second stop."

"Good night, Ramza," Argath said softly.

"And you, Argath."

Overnight, it became nearly warm enough to snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on tumblr @cyberphuck!


End file.
